Google Search History

The Little Englishman recently cleared my phone because it was saying I had low storage. My phone does this on a regular basis, pretty much every time it updates itself. Anyway, this has allowed me to see exactly what I've searched in the last 24 hours, to my own amusement. Here's the list:

dream interpretation
liam neeson only person to look less bad ass
yeast infection crease leg*
yeast**
milk soap food coloring experiment

*This is the one I forgot I did and then snort laughed for three minutes after re-reading it. It's an affliction only one person in my household currently has and it's not me.
** Can anyone do a summary for me as to house yeast it "harvested"? I can't sit down and read that wiki article. There was no real answer that I could come by when skimming.

I was looking up the milk soap food coloring experiment after I made the standard non-newtonian fluid every middle schooler has ever played with: cornstarch and water. Apparently England hates their children so the Little Englishman has never had this experience. As for the milk experiment, it's pretty much summed up in this video here:

Anyway, dream interpretation was just on a whim. It's pseudoscience to me but the Little Englishman's mum is a therapist and utilizes it so I thought I'd check it out. I've been having a reoccurring theme in dreams of a room in my house being completely forgotten. I'll come back to it and for some reason it will be infested with dead and living animals as well as teeming with general decay. In the first, I was visiting my old room in Freeport and remembered the hamster collection I kept in the wall. I've never owned a hamster in my life but in the dream there was a corner of a wall that had a built in, multi-storied hamster cage. It was unkempt yet there were still living hamsters in it. My mom was still feeding them but had neglected to dispose of the many hamster carcasses that lined the floor or change the bedding which was littered with rotting waste. I was mortified.

The second dream involved the Little Englishman and I living in a one story house with an expansive floor plan though we only had one tiny little bathroom. We'd lived there for quite some time but had never entered one room in it because the landlord said the previous tenants had never cleaned it out and apparently neither he nor we had bothered to do anything about it. That information completely slipped my mind one day and I went into this room. It was about 15 by 15 feet and had to massive vanities the size of a regular kitchen table. There were lights built into the tops of the walls creating very muted lighting but everything was beige and off-white. There was a spot light over this massive jacuzzi/shower with shelves made out of marbled glass along two sides of it and a long, white linen shower curtain. The whole room was carpeted except for a patch of beige ceramic tile alongside the jacuzzi. It was beautiful as long as you disregarded the mold, moss and algae that covered most of the jacuzzi, up the shower curtain and spreading out in patches across the carpet. I yelled for the Little Englishman to come look and then noticed the hoards of both dead and living frogs and other amphibians. I was startled and turned for the door but slipped. A frog the size of my head with a completely yellow body except two large red spots on its back made a break for the door and I started screaming for the Little Englishman.

I know I've had more like this but I can remember them. It's got to mean something to my subconscious but it doesn't have any sort of readily available explanation.

Cat Names and Unusual Departures

Since the arrival of Dexter the kitten, I've been bombarding the little Englishman with stories about previous cats I've owned. I can't help it, having a kitten again reminds me of all the other times I'd taking care of a tiny little fuzzy thing. So, to spare him some listening trouble, I'm going to impart some of it onto whatever audience I have out there.

Dexter is the 9th cat I've owned. This number isn't high because my parents enjoyed having multiple cats living in their house. It's high because somehow, cats don't last long at the house I grew up in. We always took good care of the cats we had and loved them each but some of them have just disappeared and others have died of unusual causes. I can't really figure it out but our house should be on some Cracked.com list about weird cat stuff.

The first cat that my family had was named Rosie Roosevelt Rainbow Cook. My eldist sister named him when she was about 8. I don't really remember much about Rosie except he had one leg missing, he really liked American cheese slices, and he died in a fucked up way. My parents usually tell the story about me dragging him by the hind legs so I could watch him hop along on the front one and how they had to buy me a stuffed animal version of Rosie to keep me from cutting his hair off with safety scissors. I was three, alright?! Anyway, I was 8 when Rosie died. You see, Rosie was an outside cat. He'd meow at the door when he wanted to get in and did the same when he wanted to roam out in the woods behind our house. One day Rosie decided to wait by the garage door in order to get in, rather than the back door like usual. My mom watched as he came in when she opened the garage door and, as her story goes, when she started closing the door again, Rosie decided he didn't actually want to come back inside and darted for the yard. Rosie didn't make it to the yard because he was crushed by a garage door. Supposedly my mom didn't do it on purpose but she complained about the cat all the time. If you're a parent and you're wondering about traumatizing your kids when telling them about death, try not to savagely murder their childhood pet.

After about a year of mourning (on my sister's part, I was fine the day after Rosie died because I was a sociopathic kid apparently) we decided that it was time for a new cat. For some reason, I decided I wanted to play the day they went to go get the kitten and even though my mom told me they were going right that minute, I figured they would wait for me. Well, they didn't and in my grief of missing out, I kicked my shoe off so hard it hit the ceiling. There is still a mark from where it hit. My sisters and mother returned with two kittens: a black kitten and her orange pile of fluff brother. We named them Cosmo and Elaine after the Seinfeld characters because Elaine was the smart one and Cosmo was literally retarded. It's not his fault though. I'm ashamed to admit this but as I said before, I was a sociopath as a kid, or rather super ADD and stupid when bored. Anyway, one day while in a fit of this ADD boredom, I decided to pick up my cute, sweet little orange kitten and start yelling loud noises while holding him about six inches away from my mouth. I guess I just wanted to see his ears twitch. We figured out fairly quickly after that that Cosmo was deaf. His deafness didn't make him stupid but not being able to properly function and learn because of it did. Elaine took pity on her idiot brother and would catch mice for him so he could prance around proudly with it in his mouth while we climbed on couches to get away from him. Now of the two, which do you think has the survival skills to go outside and not get snatched up by some animal? If you thought Elaine, you are seriously mistaken.

Cosmo and his serious survival skills in action.

Elaine, like Rosie, liked to venture outside. She was a supremely clever cat and would always come back to the house after a couple of hours. She would climb up on the railing of the steps leading up from our back yard and, with an immense amount difficulty given the distance from the railing, tap on the window where she worked out that we would most likely be while meowing her head off. Elaine was also partial to human food in the form of potato chips and became quite fat because of it. This probably made her a tasty treat to a predator in the woods behind our house because one night, she just disappeared. Elaine wouldn't have run away because she seemed to have the impulse to take care of her idiot brother and god damn she loved potato chips. Her disappearance still bugs me because she was probably the smartest cat we ever had. Meanwhile Cosmo would get outside occasionally, revert to freak out mode, and hide under the overhang of our back porch, hissing at us when we tried to bring him back inside.

After Elaine disappeared, we had a run of female cats, all in an effort to control Cosmo and the mouse population of our house. (continued in Part II)